


Full Moon Harvest Celebration

by Cirilla Godefroy (Cumbersnatched)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bats, Cute, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Intense, M/M, bat marking, bat molestation, bat piles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 01:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20649317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cumbersnatched/pseuds/Cirilla%20Godefroy
Summary: Geralt throws a full moon harvest celebration and most of his friends are invited, including two very large bats and his Witcher buddies. Recipes are traded, a baby is introduced, nests are made and a Gwent game goes awry. Oh and Keira doused her supposed love of her life in bat nip, enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot fluff stop, but there will be an explicit follow up chapter for those interested in what happens to one of our favorite witchers!
> 
> Vampire Geralt based of Baptism and Blood/TrueTattoo head cannon. Also stole pinky ring idea! I really love her perspective and ideas. She's done amazing fleshing our the characters and I love all their personalities. I just love love to spin off on them. I hope that's okay! If you haven't read TrueTattoo's Baptism in Blood, click this link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200242
> 
> Warnings:  
Language because Geralt and Lambert that’s why  
Intense cuteness!  
OOC Lambert….? Or not? I tried?  
Bat molesting of appreciation of the non-sexual variety? Mostly?  
Consensual bat glompings and scent marking!  
Non-con bat glompings and scent marking?!  
More cuteness!

The bonfire crackled in the center of the courtyard as Geralt waited for the remainder of his guests to arrive at Corvo Bianco. His majordomo Barnabas-Basil Foulty who Geralt had taken to calling “BB” had gone above and beyond once again for the year’s full moon harvest festival celebration. The vines were ripe, and his workers were excited to begin the harvest, but first, a celebration to a year of hard work and fruits well earned.

Geralt had swelled with pride at what he’d accomplished by giving cripples, the homeless and the random misunderstood vagabond a chance to prove themselves by working for him. A chance that he thought every decent person down due to unfortunate circumstances deserved. He paid them well, housed them, and allowed them days off and leave. For that, he had earned their utmost respect and devotion, and the results of the harvest tomorrow would prove it.

Geralt turned back to the campfire fire and grabbed a choice tidbit off the nearby table of goodies as he passed by it. BB had set up several tables full of various fruits, meats, and cheese, and there were Trastamara dishes and Nilgaardian delicacies abound. BB had also set up several tents for his guests to house themselves in over the course of their stay for the next few days. The back-stock wood for the bonfire was piled high, so it would last far into the night, and the few workers they were paying overtime to keep him him and their guests comfortable waited around anxiously, eager to get started. The rest of his tenants mingled around the campfire, conversing as their children played and they enjoyed the fruits of their labor.

Geralt smiled fondly at his people, proud of all that they’d accomplished. Especially his friends. Eskel was nearby conversing with Marlene who beamed at his compliments and inquiries. His friend had always been a bit of a foodie, and the only one of them who really showed any interest in learning how to cook _decent_ food. The man was a savior in the harsher winter months at Kaer Morhen that required hardier food. Eskel sat and planned everything out ahead of time. He gathered and pickled various ingredients, storing them for later use and hunting then drying meat that they could gnaw on or use in stews later. He’d go market with the pot of crowns they’d saved for hard times throughout the year to find the best deals for things they needed. He was invaluable, and a truly good friend.

Geralt clasped the man on the shoulder as he walked by and allowed the fondness he felt to seep through the loose pack bond they shared. “How are you, my friend?”

Eskel had to finish the food in his mouth before he could say a word, and gestured at Marlene who had turned to refill holes that appeared in the table spread. “Fantastic! Trastamara cooking is amazing. We were just swapping spice recipes. You know Toussaint has such a greater variety of herbs than at Kaer Morhen. I’ll have to gather some to take back with me and see what I can find in the market.”

“You do that. If there’s anything I can help with, let me know.” Geralt smiled warmly at his childhood friend and continued on to where Lambert and Letho were playing a game of Gwent. After a quick look at the playing field, he decided the Lambert most likely had the upper hand, even though the game just started.

“I love that deck. The northern realms. First deck I ever had and never switched from it,” Geralt commented, feeling nostalgic. He rested a hand on Lambert’s shoulder and peered over at the cards in his hand. The younger witcher held two decoy, two spies, a catapult, a medic, and two blue stripes command which doubled each other’s strength. Then he was using the best leader card ever, which doubled the strength of siege weaponry. On the field, Lambert had already placed a Geralt hero card and a Regis card which made him smirk.

“I knew you liked us, somewhere deep down in your icy heart,” Geralt teased the young witcher who smacked his hand away playfully.

“You have your uses, but Regis’s card is fucking garbage. You can’t deny it,” Lambert said as he focused on the game at hand.

Geralt reluctantly agreed. “Yeah a five doesn’t even do Regis justice. Card doesn’t even look like him anyway. The artist is fired.”

Lambert smirked when Letho played a spy from his Nilfgaardian deck and drew two cards. Immediately, Lambert used a decoy and scooped the spy up into his own hand. The game will definitely go to Lambert if the six cards drawn using spies are even halfway decent at this rate.

Letho was frowning. Geralt shifted over to his side to look at his deck. A decoy, weather card, weather card, clear weather, medic, three imperial brigade which increase each other’s power and a scorch. Hmmm…might be a tossup after all. If he played the scorch and weather cards right he might just stand a chance.

“Speaking of Regis, where’s your old bat at anyway?” Lambert played a spy and drew two cards---clear weather and…

“Wait is that—“ Geralt cut himself off before he gave away Lambert’s hand and plucked the card from his fingers. “When did they release a new deck?!” ‘_The Beast of Beauclair_ _(15), neutral hero card.’_ It depicted Dettlaff in fine form, teeth long and claws out, fresh out of blood red mist on Beauclair castle steps.

“A while back. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice what with Syanna drama and being thrown into prison.” Lambert plucked it back possessively and narrowed his eyes at Geralt.

“I want him. What do you want for him?” Geralt was in game mode now, ready to throw it down for a new and unique card in a heartbeat. Regis would love having that card!

“He’s not for trade. I won him in a tournament in Beauclair. One of a kind.” Lambert turned from Geralt to focus back on the game but he could tell Lambert was unusually possessive over it.

“You participated in a tournament.” Obvious statement is obvious. Geralt was dumbfounded. Bustling social events where people could stare or sneer at Lambert were not a thing for him!

“Yes. That’s what I just said.”

“Why?” Geralt was curious and now Lambert was outright glowering at him.

“Because I wanted to,” Lambert ground out, becoming impatient.

“You hate people. You hate people-ly things! Why subject yourself to that?” Geralt prodded relentlessly because he was annoyed the young wolf didn’t want to trade Geralt, of all people, the infamous Dettlaff card. Seriously Regis would be putty in his hands if he got that thing!

“I wanted the damn card alright! Give it a rest!“ Geralt could sense Lambert’s adrenaline spiking for a fight as the younger witchers face reddened.

Geralt turned to Keira Metz, Lambert’s sorceress mate, who sat nearby watching the argument with an amused glint in her eyes. Geralt was about to prod her as well because she always knew more than Lambert let on when a flash of green light and the sound of the air ripping behind him tore his attention away.

Ciri jumped out of the green and black tear in space and leapt into Geralt’s arms.

“Da!!”

Geralt embraced her warmly and drew her close. She smelt of dust, sweat and something otherworldly, something he could only associate with his Daughter. “Ciri!...” Geralt inhaled deeply and pulled away to beam at her. “How are you? I’m so glad you could make it!”

“I’m just fine, as always. Sorry If I’m a little late, got held up.” She beamed back at him but her attention was quickly pulled away as she realized who all was there. Geralt let her go, a stupid grin on his face as his Daughter went and caught up with his old friends. She had turned into a beautiful and powerful woman and witcher, and every time he saw her he couldn’t help but feel immense pride.

Geralt watched as they all exchanged hugs. Even Lambert who, still glowering, returned to his game after he gave Ciri a reluctant half hug. Still, Geralt eyed the cards in Lambert’s hand. There had to be some way to wiggle that card away from him…

A whistle shot up from the front entrance, followed by a low warble in warning. Geralt responded in kind with his own trilling whistle and pardoned himself from his friends to greet his guests. He took off at a jog down the cobble stoned path to meet up with BB who was taking the reins of a beautiful white mare belonging to Dandelion and Priscilla.

“Dande! Pris!” Geralt rushed forward and enveloped first Dandelion in a brief hug, and then more carefully, Priscilla, who was cradling their new born child.

“Congratulations my friend! I’m so happy for you!” Geralt beamed at them feeling genuinely thrilled for the couple.

Surprisingly, Dandelion did his most to look humble and embarrassed. “Thank you dearest Geralt, it is such a pleasure to see you, as always! May I introduce to thee my dearest Priscilla, who you already know, and our lovely little flower, Lily LeSyanna Pankratz, Princess de Lettenhove.” The young Viscount practically beamed as Priscilla presented their child to Geralt.

Always the formalist, introductions first, and then everything else. Geralt sighed inwardly and awkwardly obliged. “Pleasure is all mine, dearest Lily LeSyanna.” Geralt awkwardly took the presented babe from Priscilla and cradled the fragile thing in his sunburnt arms.

“She is beautiful.” The baby burbled up at him happily, not frightened in the slightest of Geralt’s harsh and weird features. “May I?” Geralt gestured towards the bonfire and awaiting party members. “You’ve road hard. Let us introduce you both and your princess and get you settled in? I have a tent set aside just for the two of you and your little one here.”

Dandelion placed a gentle hand on Geralt’s shoulder and urged him forward. “The pleasure is all mine, my friend. I truly appreciate your hospitality.”

Geralt scoffed and shook his head in disagreement as they made their way to the bonfire. “It’s the least I can do for you getting me out of prison.”

Dandelion wholeheartedly disagreed again, and they bantered back and forth as they made their way up the path. Priscilla interjected here and there in defense of either or, always the neutral mediator that one.

Ciri’s eye’s lit up as Geralt approached and he groaned. Here it comes.

“Oh my—Da!!! I need someone to paint a portrait. Like. NOW!” Ciri closed in on him and peered at the baby wrapped in its bundle. Geralt rolled his eyes at her, which she ignored.

“Oh Dandelion she’s so precious! What did you name her!?”

Geralt groaned inwardly this time and resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “May I let Ciri hold her, Dandelion? I’ll show Priscilla to the tent you’ll be staying in.”

“Yes,” Priscilla interrupted, urging Ciri to take hold as Dandelion went through his spiel again.

Gratefully relieved of his burden, he escorted Priscilla to her tent to let her get settled in. Vaguely he wondered where Yennefer was at, and asked Ciri about it when he returned.

“Oh she got caught up in a political tryst of some sort. Had to help the Emperor sort out a trade agreement or another. You know how it is.

“Uh…huh. Sure.” Surprisingly, he managed to not take it personal. Sometimes it is what it is.

Just then Geralt felt the bond pulse through him and he looked up. He couldn’t see anything, even with his keen Witcher vision, but he could feel him coming closer. Them, actually.

“Everyone,” Geralt raised his voice in warning, then put his fingers to his lips, loosing a high then low warble to signal his estate that Regis was coming and not to freak out about it. Regis has only hung around the estate once or twice during the full moon, and for good reason.

“Everyone. Don’t freak out. It’s just Regis and he brought a friend,” Geralt warned his Witcher friends and the company among them. Geralt sent _slow_ and _calm_ through the bond to Regis and Dettlaff and hoped they would get the hint.

“Wha---why would we freak out?” Dandelion asked as he looked to the Witcher, confused.

“Bats.” Geralt looked up and could see them circling now, high above. Dandelion and the other’s followed his gaze.

Several gasps went up and some children ran to their parents for comfort. His witcher brothers were pensive and keyed up instinctively. Geralt could feel a bit of _trepidation_ and _worry_ coming from Dettlaff as they descended in circles. Geralt sent _safe_ and _calm._ Dettlaff had visited several times before, but the younger vampire was constantly on guard, and the last thing he wanted to do was frighten children.

Regis insisted they stay away during the full moon celebration, especially since their instincts were so on edge at the time, but Geralt wouldn’t have it. He wanted his old bat there to celebrate with him, and he felt it would be a great opportunity for his blood brother Dettlaff to get out of his warren and socialize with people again.

“Why are they in bat form?” Eskel asked from behind him. He was always the most curious of the Witchers and asked all the right questions.

“The full moon more or less compels them into that form,” Geralt explained as the bats slowly edged closer. “They can resist, but they will become agitated and very irritable. It would be like us being on the trial of grasses and forced to sit in our chambers, rather than run off all the excess energy. It’s better for them to just let it go and enjoy it.”

“I can understand that,” Ciri said, being on the trial of grasses herself. “I’d be biting my nails, wanting to punch something—anything really. It would be so frustrating.”

Geralt nodded at his Daughter. “Exactly.”

“Then how come you don’t change?” Eskel asked from behind as he eyeballed the witcher.

Damn those right questions. Geralt scowled and held out his hand to Eskel. He flashed his pinky finger with an intricate and unusual silvery ring on it. “Ring, remember? I want to shift to the form available to me, but this helps temper the urge. I’m using my mutations to help dull the remaining edginess I’m feeling. Also, Regis left me a special potion if I get too…excited, as it were.”

“Ah.”

As the bats closed in, he felt Lambert’s attention fully draw away from the Gwent game. His full attention diverted to the bats and the young witcher’s pulse jumped. Geralt honed in on him, focusing his mutations and scenting the young wolf. Lambert was sweating and emitting a thick musk, but he wasn’t close enough to tell scents his musk was based on.

Geralt glanced at Keira, who wasn’t even paying attention to the bats and was smiling coyly behind a glass of White Wolf. She knows something! Geralt had the mind to go prod her but just then Regis dropped down in front of him, casting up a small cloud of dust.

Regis quickly shuffled over to him and trilled. _Love_ pulsed through the bond and _happiness._ Geralt went over to the large bat and grabbed its head. He sifted his fingers through its silky black and silver fur and scratched all over and behind his ears. “Happy full moon, Regis.”

The older bat gently head butt Geralt and snuffled at his hair and neck. Geralt chittered back and rubbed his cheek against the bat and then stiffened, remembering himself.

Someone coughed.

“Best see to your guests, Geralt,” Regis chittered back in a voice so low only a witcher’s keen hearing could detect it.

Reluctantly Geralt pulled away, his cheeks somewhat red. It would’ve been hard to tell in the firelight anyway. Dettlaff took that moment to land behind Regis but closer to the fire. The large black bat shifted nervously while his ears twitched every which way and his nose sniffed and snuffed taking in all the scents. Geralt slowly walked up to him, hands out. The black bat chirped at him lowly and snuffled at his hands before head butting them too.

“Everyone. This is Dettlaff. Some of you met him, some haven’t. He is family. Please treat him as such.” Geralt met the eyes of everyone around him while his hands worked soothing circles into the bat’s scalp. Dettlaff trilled and lowered his head submissively.

Geralt eyed the children in attendance, still wary. Some were partially hidden behind skirts and legs. “He won’t hurt you. He’s nice. Like Regis. And he loves children! He used to own a toy shop and made toys for kids. If you like, maybe he could make something for you sometime?”

Geralt felt _gratitude_ and _sadness_ pulse through their blood bond.

“Tell them I’d love to Geralt. If they’d like to make a list, come end of year, they’ll be made.” Dettlaff’s voice was deeper and reverberated through the air.

“You couldn’t hear, but he said he’d love to. Just write down what you want and I’ll give it to him okay?”

A little girl peered out from behind her Father’s trousers and blinked up at them. Geralt smiled at her.

None of the children moved though, still unsure. “Give them time, my friend. They will come to trust you.” Geralt sent him _comfort_ and Dettlaff sent back _love_. Regis shuffled over and nuzzled his blood brother as well and sent _encouragement_. Smiling, Geralt let the bat go and turned back to his guests.

“Well? Nothing to see here. Just a couple furry friends. Carry on!” Geralt raised his eyebrows pointedly and most of the witchers and guests looked away.

Lambert too, eventually went back to his game, though not before giving Dettlaff hard a stare. The strange scent still lingered, and with it Geralt’s curiosity remained piqued. He ignored it for now however. He was sure before the evenings end, an appropriate time would present itself for him to prod the young wolf a bit more.

Geralt turned, another plan in mind. Now that he had the bat’s here, they needed a place to be comfortable. This wasn’t something he’d tasked BB with, as the majordomo had no experience in bat nests. Instead, he’d had BB gather a huge pile of old (but clean) blankets, skins, furs and old bed rolls, then instructed him to pile them off to the side, at the very back of the courtyard near the stone block wall, away from the gathering where they could rest but still observe the celebration or retire if they wanted. He’d also requested a large brazier placed nearby, as this spot was further from the fire than it really should be which would warm the wall nicely. Geralt didn’t want to put them directly in the middle of the event, or so close that the noise would bother them. He didn’t want them to feel crowded, or claustrophobic which might trigger an instinct or something worse. He wanted them comfortable, especially Dettlaff.

Geralt left the two by the fire and loped down the path to the wall. The brazier had already been lit, and it warmed the stone behind it beautifully. The largest pile of blankets he’d ever seen in his life laid nearby. Next to that was a stack of old bed rolls, so he started with those to form a base. For one, or even two bats, he would need a large nest. He spread them out quickly and layered them. Then he started on the blankets, layering them over and over until he felt the ground was cushy enough to lay on for an extended period. He even tested it and wiggled around to make sure there were no lumps. Next, he started piling blankets up on the sides in rolls. Wider piles on the bottom, then he made them smaller the higher up they got until the sides were a couple feet high.

Satisfied, he abandoned the rest of the blankets and ran for the skins. He had just grabbed the first one and froze, scenting the air. Other-worldliness and dust.

“Just what in the world are you doing, Da?”

Geralt whipped around and his eyes flashed red for a moment. Ciri’s eyes widened and she put up her hands to show they were empty. Geralt swallowed and kneaded the skins in his hands. He’d kind of lost himself for a minute.

“Uhhh…building a nest,” he said with a groan and closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to see the mirth in her eyes.

“I…see that. Are you going to be okay? With the full moon an’all that?” His Daughter approached him cautiously and he breathed in deep to ground himself.

He didn’t let it out until he felt capable of answering. “Yes. Do not. Say a word. To anyone. Please.” His voice was a bit thick and gravely, but damned if he wasn’t serious. Lambert would not let it go!

“Okay Da.” Ciri grinned. “Let me know if you need anything!” She trotted away before he could answer.

Damn it. Now it was only a matter of time before the whole estate knew…Or not. He hoped Ciri knew better than to embarrass him like that. Hell, it’s not like he needed any help in that department, especially after his display with Bat-Regis.

Geralt huffed out a breath and continued his work. He did his best this time to stay focused. He draped skins over the raised sides and layered them on the bottom. Then he grabbed the mound of furs, which was much smaller than the other piles. Bear, wolf and saber furs, all. Some coarser than he’d have liked, which he draped intermittently over the sides. The softer, plushier ones, he folded near the end to be used as blankets. Lastly, he used the finest skins to fold into rolls as pillows. Overall it was a little too traditional looking for _bats_ but he knew Regis would enjoy it.

Satisfied, Geralt loped back to the bonfire where Eskel was asking Dettlaff pointed questions and Ciri was sitting atop Regis. The black bat emitted a pulse of _annoyance_ at being interrogated, and the older one sent _contentment_ and_ mirth_.

“Ciri! What are you doing?!” Geralt stopped in front of Bat-Regis who chattered at him.

“He asked if I wanted to go flying! Heck yes Da!” Ciri looked absolutely gleeful as her hands wound into the mane of silky fur at the back of Regis’s neck.

Geralt beamed and sent out a wave of intense _love_ and _fondness_. “You old bat, you sure you can handle a young spritely thing like her? She’ll wear you out.” Geralt teased him and affectionately grabbed hold of Regis’s cheeks. His thumbs massaged the glands there and Regis purred. More spice and earth scent hit him and Geralt inhaled deeply and relaxed into it.

“I’ll be fine, Witcher. At least the young one isn’t wearing armor and weighs half as much as you do!” Regis hissed and chittered at him.

Eskel chuckled. “He just called you fat, old man.”

“Hey it’s all muscle, unlike some people,” Geralt shot back with a fanged grin.

Regis trilled, _mirth_ filtering through the bond as the bat head butted him. “You need to move Da, he need’s room.”

Geralt obliged and moved to the side. They all watched as Bat-Regis sat up on his hind legs and flexed his wings out. They were massive, covered in fine black and silver fur. Their breadth spanned nearly half the courtyard. The thin membrane between bones was almost translucent in the firelight. Suddenly, Regis legs coiled beneath him and he raised his wings to their zenith then launched himself off the ground with a high pitched shriek. 

“Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Ciri yelled, whether from fear or exhilaration, Geralt couldn’t tell. Probably both at this point. He knew from experience.

“That is SO awesome!” Lambert exclaimed, totally having forgotten the Gwent game. Geralt grinned over at the young wolf, himself being caught up in the rush with Cirir. However Geralt was somewhat surprised. The pup was normally pessimistic or contrary and reserved his gushing for Keira.

Letho looked bored and rolled his eyes. “Can you stop ogling the bats and finish this game please?”

“Shut up!” Lambert snapped. Geralt could see his cheeks redden as he turned away to hide behind his cards.

Eskel chuckled beside him and sent Geralt a knowing smile.

Gerald sidled up next to Eskel and turned away from Lambert so the young wolf couldn’t read his lips. “What is going on with him?” Geralt hissed as his curiosity finally got the better of him.

“He has a thing. It’s not my place to say what it is. But it’s a thing. A major one.”

Dettlaff chuffed beside him and nuzzled Geralt’s shoulder. He felt _unease _slip through their bond and he knew the vampire was seeking comfort now that Regis had left him. They could hear Ciri ‘whooping’ in the distance.

Geralt stroked Dettlaff’s fur and lightly massaged the glands in his cheeks as his mind pieced things together.

The Dettlaff card, Keira’s knowing smile and the way Lambert stared as he realized just _who_ and _what_ would be attending the party. The musk Geralt had scented from him, Lambert’s distraction, gushing and ogling of the bats.

It seemed Lambert had a _crush._ But on who? Or is it rather, on what? There were two bats…only one of which Lambert pointedly placed himself in an uncomfortable situation for, just to get a card that resembled him.

Eskel grinned at Geralt as he figured it out. Geralt flicked his eyes over to the bat chittering against his shoulder and then back to Lambert.

Eskel nodded.

Whelp. There’s that. Huh.

Geralt was considering what he would be able to do that would make Lambert the most uncomfortable when something tugged at his trousers. He turned and was surprised to see the daughter of his stable master standing behind him—the girl from earlier. She was still very young, about four or five, and had long red hair and freckles dotted her face. She wore a clean yellow dress for the celebration. Her feet were bare though, probably to enjoy the softness of the earth. Geralt hoped she wouldn’t catch a cold for it. Her Father sat nearby, watching with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Geralt crouched down to her level. “Is everything okay with you Annett?”

The little girl named Annett chewed on her lip and flicked her eyes over to the large bat behind Geralt.

Ah…

“Did you want to say hello?” Geralt pulsed _excitement_ and _love_ at Dettlaff to grab his attention.

The little girl nodded excitedly and started chewing on her finger instead.

Geralt looked back over his shoulder as Dettlaff slowly shuffled closer. The black bat nudged past his shoulder to peer down at the child who didn’t move an inch.

“Hi,” the little girl said quietly, though she stopped chewing her finger long enough to wave at the bat.

“This is Dettlaff, Annett. Dettlaff, meet Annett.” Geralt practically glowed with fondness as he shifted to crouch behind and to the left of the girl as Dettlaff moved in closer. The black bats nose twitched and glistened in the firelight and his ears faced forward, focused on her. He chattered and cocked his head to the side, then quickly flicked out his longer purple tongue to ruffle the child’s hair.

Annett flinched and squealed excitedly, but still she didn’t run away. “Hehehe,” she reached out a hand and Dettlaff laid close to the ground so the little girl could reach him. Being on the same level seemed to make the girl feel much more confident as she closed the distance and outright hugged him.

Geralt was beaming. If that wasn’t the cutest thing he had ever seen in his lifetime---

Emboldened, other children came out of the shadows to see what was so scary about the big black bat.

At this point, nothing. Dettlaff trilled and purred. Even when one of the kids pulled a little too hard on his sensitive ears and his head cocked to the side, or when they accidentally stepped on his wing, Dettlaff didn’t flinch. _Happiness_ and _content _broadcast through the bond with such intensity Geralt thought his heart would explode.

Regis and Ciri chose that moment to make their reappearance. They quietly landed behind Geralt and Regis shuffled forward. No words needed to be said. They both could feel it. But Ciri indulged them both.

“Oh Melitele…how precious,” she whispered as she dismounted Regis. There were tears in her eyes. Though whether that was from her exciting ride, the wind in her eyes or the sight before them, Geralt wasn’t sure. Nearly everyone around watched, entranced, by the miracle of what they were witnessing before them. It was truly unbelievable and was one step closer to a world where humans and vampires could peacefully coexist together.

Regis chittered happily and nuzzled against Geralt’s neck. Regis was panting from his flight, and his nose had dried out, but the warmth of Regis breath against his neck made him shiver. Geralt rubbed his cheek against Regis’s cheek gland as he watched a child climb onto Dettlaff’s back. Regis began doing his purr trill thing, and Geralt lost himself to his happiness. This was more than he could have hoped for, bringing his two vampires here. It was beautiful, and it was the new start Dettlaff so desperately needed.

“Come Regis, I have something for you.” Geralt reluctantly stood and made for the nest he’d built earlier.

Regis followed, though he offered Dettlaff an _encouraging_ trill before parting.

Geralt jogged up the path and gestured proudly to his masterpiece.

“Geralt…” Behind him, Regis keened. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for him—for us.”

“Of course I did! I want Dettlaff to be able to think of this as his home too. Course, this one is only temporary. I could have a whole guest house added on if you really want.”

Regis trilled lightly and rubbed the length of his body against Geralt in appreciation as he shuffled by and into the nest. Geralt shuddered and uttered a low trill back. Geralt inhaled deeply. Regis knew how much he enjoyed his personal scent. The older bat immediately started kneading the bedding and lowered his head to snuffle at it.

“I hope it turned out okay. It better be. Ciri caught me doing it. I had kind of…gotten too into it?” Geralt paced back and forth, anxious for approval. Damn instincts!

Regis rubbed his cheeks into the skins, marking them all over and flopped onto his side. Geralt groaned and closed his eyes. “C-can you not? I feel like I’m the designated horse driver here. It’s not fair.”

Regis chattered, _mirth_ filtering through the bond as he scent marked the pillows.

“I hate you right now.” Geralt griped, torn between saying to hell with it and scent marking Regis with no regrets or attempting to maintain control and be the good witcher he was supposed to be for harvest moon night.

Regis keened and rolled back over onto his stomach. The old bat kneaded the skins and licked his fangs invitingly.

Fuck. “Gods you are not making this easy.” Geralt sent _frustration_ through to Regis before he turned away. “Okay bye, I have other things to—“

His breath was knocked out of him and he saw stars as he was shoved to the ground. Regis had pinned him with his body weight and massive black and silver wings closed him in.

“Regis! Now is no—Ahh,” Geralt moaned as a long tongue flicked out along his neck and across his ear, followed by fangs that grazed at his neck.

“Gods—not the time Regis!!” Geralt braced his hands against the cobble stone path and pushed back with all his might but the bat didn’t budge. Regis’s weight was almost suffocating. The bat began nuzzling against Geralt almost painfully, scent marking him too. _Adoration_ and _love_ pulsed at him from Regis.

“You’re welcome! Now, please let me up?” Geralt groaned as the pressure on his body finally released and he was able to stand. He pouted at Regis as he dusted himself off. “Really?”

Regis chittered and trilled at Geralt and licked at his neck again. Geralt could see the _want_ and _mischievous_ in the bats eyes, but they both knew this was not the time nor place for _that_.

The corner of his lip tipped up and Geralt grabbed Regis’s head to put their foreheads together. Regis purred and sent _love_ again followed by _lust._ Geralt let out a low growl. “Later, much later Regis.” He turned to go but as he went he sent _lust_ back followed by _curiosity._ He wondered if Regis would get it.

When he rejoined the gathering, it seemed the kids had been bundled off to bed and the families with them in preparation for tomorrow’s harvest. Early to bed, early to rise they say. Dandelion was nowhere to be seen, nor was Ciri and the Gwent game finally came to a close. Lambert and Letho were arguing heatedly and Eskel and Dettlaff were warming themselves by the fire, watching.

“You said if I won, I could pick any card out of your deck” Letho held up his fingers and made quotation mark signs as he said ‘any’.

“Yes, but not THAT one!” Lambert had gathered up his deck and almost protectively hid them back in his vest. “He’s one of a kind!”

Geralt strolled up behind them, smirking knowingly. Keira was nearby as well, now sipping on a glass of Witcher Red. Their eyes met and Geralt grinned knowingly. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Are you talking about your ‘Beast of Beauclair’ card?” Geralt said a bit too loudly.

Lambert rounded on him and his face darkened. Glowing amber cat eyes darted past him to the bonfire where Dettlaff was before zoning in on Geralt again. “Don’t even fucking go there wolf. Stay out of this.”

Lambert was super keyed up, ready to fight for real this time. Geralt could scent his unique musk more easily now that he was closer. Cinnamon and apple, with a hint of citrus? Some kind of orange?

Feeling mischievous, Geralt shifted closer to Lambert and licked his lips. “You know I could compel you to give me the card Lambert? I wouldn’t even have to win it from you.” Geralt grinned, showing fang.

He could feel Dettlaff stirring behind him. _Curiosity_ hit him as the bat moved in.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare. You do NOT use the bond for something like this! Gods—I can’t even trust you after you suggest something like that are you kidding me right now?!” Lambert yelled and his eyes glowed in the night. He was pissed.

“I AM kidding Lambert. Geeze. If I were in your position I’d feel the same way. Calm down. You know I wouldn’t do that. Take a joke.” Geralt chided the young wolf and rolled his eyes. He grinned though when Lambert finally realized who was coming his way.

The young wolfs eyes widened and he backed himself up into the card table. Geralt grinned toothily as Dettlaff scented Lambert from a few yards away and he felt a shiver go through the bond.

“Why would you have a ‘Beast of Beauclair’ card? How is that even a thing?” Dettlaff asked, his voice deep and resonating. _Curiosity. _His ears swiveled towards Geralt then to Lambert and back and the bat’s nose was twitching relentlessly. He inched closer.

Lambert stammered slightly. “It’s an n-new deck they released for Gwent and it’s a unique card. I w-wanted it so…”

“He played in a tournament for it Dettlaff,” Geralt interjected mischievously and earned himself a glare. Daring to poke the bear, he clasped the young pup on the shoulder. “This, a man who can’t stand to be around people due to their hate for witchers and slurs, subjected himself to a regional Gwent tournament so he could get a card. Of you. He’s been enamored ever since you got here.”

Lambert looked like he wanted to punch Geralt, and Keira was giggling behind her wine glass nearby, her eyes sparking with mirth. “I will fucking kill you wolf.” Lambert threatened. His fists clenched hard enough that he broke skin, and all present had a keen enough nose to scent it.

“You will do no such thing,” Dettlaff growled. He closed in on Lambert, his hackles rising. “He is pack, and my family.” Dettlaffs fang’s glistened in the firelight and both ears were swiveled in on him. The large bats nose snuffled deeply, scenting the blood and Lambert’s personal scent. Geralt’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he felt through their bond _elation_ and _pleasure._ Having a feeling about what was about to happen, he let go of Lambert and backed away and threw Keira a sharp look.

Lamberts personal musk thickened as Dettlaff moved in on him. Letho, ever the smart man, backed away too. You would have thought he was scared but as soon as he was far enough away he almost bust out laughing. Lambert was oblivious.

Without warning, Dettlaff pounced on Lambert and pinned him to the table. His nose snuffled all over the young wolf. His neck, hair, ear, arm pits and groin. There was nothing Lambert could do while the wings trapped him in place. Geralt bit the back of his fist to keep from laughing. He’d been there, having been scented and marked by Regis multiple times. Geralt went along for the ride as Dettlaff’s part of the bond was wide open and he grinned with _elation_. The bat pulsed _excitement_ and _pleasure_ as the young wolf struggled, yelped and cursed.

Looking past the bat and wolf, he shot Keira a look as he fought back laughter. She was cackling. “What did you do?!”

“Oooh…nothing. I might have laced his bath oil with blood orange. You know how vampire’s love citrus. I had always wondered what the effect _blood_ orange might have.”

“I WILL KILL YOU KEIRA!” Lambert yelled from beneath a wing.

Geralt doubled over his control breaking. He couldn’t help it now. Haaaa.

“Oh stop. He’s not going to hurt you. I don’t think. He’s just…entranced.” Keira said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal to be marked and molested by a bat high on blood orange.

“GERALT. DO SOMETHING?!”

Geralt saw his opportunity and pounced. “Card?”

“FUCK YOU!”

Dettlaff chittered and trilled while he took to nuzzling and licking at Lambert’s skin around his neck and abdomen. Geralt could scent another musk now and decided it was time for everyone to go.

“Eskel, Letho, probably time to go! I had BB set up a tent on the other side of the estate, behind the herb garden for you and ah…Lambert, Keira and Letho. Guess it’ll just be you two?” Geralt shuddered through the bond as Lambert suddenly stopped struggling and Dettlaff sent _pleasure _again though this time it bordered on a different kind.

“Yep. See you later Wolf. Tell Marlene I’ll send her those recipes soon.” Eskel’s eyes flicked between Geralt and the bat and Lambert momentarily and grinned before heading off. His friend was high strung now too, they all were. Hopefully Letho would be able to help Eskel out with that. Geralt waved the Viper off with a grin and turned to find Keira laughing maniacally behind her wine glass.

“You too. Go! There’s a third tent I had set up for Yen and Ciri, you’re welcome to join them.”

Keira pouted. “But I wanted to watch.”

Ha. “Nope no kinks for you tonight. Out! We got our hands full as it is.” Geralt pointed in the direction of the tent and urged her on.

“That you do,” her eyes slid past him and he turned around. Regis had reappeared and was chittering with mirth.

“Oh my…” Regis rumbled, a glimmer in his red eyes.

“Lambert has a thing for Dettlaff, who just found out, and he’s coated in blood orange oil, basically.” Geralt informed. “Keira wanted to watch but—“

Regis brushed past him, his nose twitching as well.

“Regis…” _Curiosity_ pinged back at him and Geralt sighed. This would be a long night.

“Keira, go. Now.” Geralt pinched his brows together. His tone brooked no argument.

“Fine….” She reluctantly pushed off her perch. “I’ll get to see it later anyway. He’ll relive it whether he wants to or not.” She grinned evilly and Geralt was reminded why he never wanted to piss sorceresses off.

After watching to make sure she truly found her way _away,_ he turned back to the matter at hand. Dettlaff had dragged Lambert to the ground and basically lay on him, and Regis was snuffling relentlessly at Lamberts head. Both bats radiated _elation_ and _pleasure_ though Dettlaff was borderline _lustful_ at this point considering Lambert’s state.

“Lambert, are you alive?” Geralt asked dumbly since he hadn’t heard anything for a while. He couldn’t help his grin as he approached the trio, but he wondered just how he would get them to move.

“Can’t…breathe.”

“Yeah bud, been there.” Geralt crouched next to them. “Dettlaff. You’re smothering him.”

No response but a trill.

“Dettlaff.” Geralt reached over and grabbed a giant furry ear, gently pulling it. It made the giant bat keen but still he didn’t budge.

Geralt sent _annoyance_ and _desperation_ through the bond. “DETTLAFF. HE CAN’T BREATHE.”

The large black bat froze and lifted his head to look at Geralt. He chirped.

“Your lard ass is squishing him fucker. Back off!”

Dettlaff chittered at him then went back to rubbing his face all over Lamberts chest. Geralt about gave up but was surprised when the bat pushed himself off the young witcher and backed up.

Only for Regis to move in and take his place.

God damn it.

“REGIS!”

The old bat snuffled and whuffed every part of the Witcher’s body he couldn’t previously get to, except from the top down. So now Lambert had a view he hadn’t wished for.

“GERALT!!!”

_Excitement _and _pleasure _made its way over to Geralt shortly thereafter. He rolled his eyes. Fucking bats. Fucking full moon!

“Regis. Stop molesting him.” He could tell Lambert was keyed up for a wholly different reason now, though the young witcher wouldn’t ever admit it. Geralt sent _jealousy_ and _possession_ over their bond as Regis would not leave the young Witcher’s lower area alone. He wasn’t _really_ jealous, but he was at least hoping to trigger the old bat into awareness.

When the old bat didn’t budge, and instead just chittered happily and kept on going, Geralt came up with a new plan. Lambert might not like it, but at least he’d be off the ground and get _some_ respite.

Geralt pulled up a mental image of the nest he’d made and of Regis scent marking it. He thrust that image out at Dettlaff and Regis thinking _nest_, _tired, home!_

That seemed to do the trick.

Regis trilled happily and moved off the young witcher who’d given up struggling to save his air supply. Soon as he could, Lambert was up and backing away. He was a mess, hair out of sorts, his clothing pulled up and he glistened in the firelight with vampire saliva. And Geralt had never seen his face that _red._ Ever.

Dettlaff circled behind the pup and blocked him in. Regis paced back and forth in front.

“What are they doing? Why won’t they let me go?!” Lambert sounded shaken and breathless and his eyes were wide, panicked.

Geralt stood and rubbed at his eyes. “I told them to go to the nest. I guess they want you to come with.” He figured that would happen. Oh well.

“What?!” Lambert looked truly frightened then and he started to reach for his Silver.

“It’s not that big of a deal Lambert. They _probably_ just want to sleep the rest of the full moon off. Join them—us. I promise I’ll tell Keira nothing happened in the morning.” Even if something does he thought, amused.

Lambert had his hand on the hilt of his sword. He was almost hyperventilating. Dettlaff closed in behind him and softly head butt him and rubbed his cheek against the witcher’s back. “Are you sure? You swear?” Lambert’s voice cracked as he was molested from behind.

“Promise. Not a word.” Geralt turned with a sigh and headed back to the nest. This would be interesting_._

Regis shuffled behind him and trilled lowly. His old bat head butt him too then brushed past to the nest. Geralt loped down the cobblestone path and glanced behind him. Lambert and Dettlaff were following and the young witcher had given up on the idea of his Silver.

Geralt resolved himself and pulled off his work boots then top. Regis had already made himself comfortable and curled up at the far end of the nest. Geralt joined him and snuggled up next to the bat. The bats warm silky fur felt cool against his back, though quickly the warmth of the giant body seeped through. A wing lazily draped over him and Geralt grabbed one of the curled up skins that still smelt of Regis and pulled them under his head. Regis nuzzled at his neck Geralt shivered and sighed, his eyes fluttering.

Geralt peered out from under the wing encompassing him and saw Dettlaff attempting to head butt Lambert into the nest who just stood there. Geralt could see the anxiety on his face.

“Lambert. It’s fine. See? Regis just wants to sleep.” The old bat did have two tiring flights tonight after all.

“I—I know but—“ He almost fell over as the black bat nudged him again, this time harder.

“C’mon, take off your gear and get in here. It’ll be fine.” Geralt patted the skins beside him and nuzzled into his pillow. Regis chittered and licked his neck making him shudder.

“Dettlaff, get in here. He’s obviously got a thing for you,” Geralt teased, “but he has to come in here on his own terms. It’s a witcher thing.”

Lambert reddened and looked like he was about to say something but the look he shot Geralt was surprisingly grateful.

Dettlaff nipped at Lambert’s hand as he rubbed past the younger witcher, then settled into the nest himself. The black bat looked up at Lambert expectantly and trilled.

Geralt watched as Lambert huffed out a breath and apparently steeled himself. The young wolf made quick work of his gear, boots and shirt, then tentatively climbed into the nest. The poor pup’s skin was all marred and sticky, but it came with the territory. Sucks for him. That’ll teach him to ogle vampire bats! Or to trust bored sorceress for that matter.

“Soft,” Lambert commented as he wiggled his toes against the skins and looked up at Geralt. “But why?”

“It’s a bat thing I learned about,” Geralt explained from under Regis’s wing, his voice muffled.

Geralt watched as Dettlaff shifted and grabbed Lambert with his wings. He witcher flailed slightly before falling over with the bat on top of him. The rubbing and marking resumed in earnest.

“Geralt!” Lambert sounded freaked out.

“He’s just scent marking you.”

“Yeah, but why?!”

He…didn’t really have an answer for that? Regis did it because Geralt belonged to him. It was an instinctual territorial thing. Claiming that which you own. But…

“Blame the blood orange and just go with it. It’ll be easier that way,” Geralt replied dumbly. Regis chittered, _mirth_ pulsing through the bond.

“That’s easy for you to say!” Lambert yelled back from underneath a wing. Dettlaff settled in on top of the young wolf.

“Don’t squish him Dettlaff,” Geralt reminded the younger bat and pulsed _caution _who seemed to take actually take heed this time.

The black bat wiggled on top of Lambert and sniffed and wuffed. His ears twitched every time Lambert made a sound of protest. Geralt could hear the black bat licking, and felt _elation_ and _pleasure_ through the bond and he heard Lambert stifled a keen. Geralt decided that at this point Dettlaff was licking because Lambert probably tasted good. Regis unknowingly confirmed as he trilled behind him and licked Geralt across the chest and neck too. Though apparently he didn’t taste as well because Regis stopped and nuzzled into his neck instead and wuffed him once.

Finally, after much wiggling and resituating, Dettlaff settled. All that could be heard was the occasional lick or chitter as Dettlaff nuzzled into Lambert. Eventually he stilled, and calm finally settled over him. Lambert was breathing heavily, and Geralt could tell that for obvious reasons it would be a very long time before the young witcher managed to go to sleep.

“Good night Lambert,” Geralt said as he rolled over and wormed his way closer into the thick chest of silky hair that had had been behind him. He closed his eyes, tired from the events of the night and sleep quickly beginning to overtake him.

“Fuck you Geralt.”

“Shouldn’t you be saying, ‘fuck you Dettlaff?’ Geralt mumbled in response with a grin.

Lambert didn’t respond.


	2. Just like John Snow, he didn't want it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to harvest moon festival
> 
> Lambert wakes up, Geralt is gone, but Dettlaff is there! Madness ensues?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
Graphic  
Non-con to Dub-Con to Con-ish?  
Masochism + Blood play  
Rimming  
Anal sex  
Asphyxiation  
Voyeurism  
Language

When Lambert finally began to stir, his head was pounding and his eyes hurt. He felt…icky. The aroma of parchment burning in a hearth assaulted him, and the smell of campfire smoke was pleasant to his senses. Memories from the night prior came rushing back to him and he groaned wishing it were all a dream. Geralt---that fucking prick. And Keira—

Something warm nuzzled against his neck and he froze. Lambert squinted his eyes open against heavy daylight and all he could see was black hair. Dettlaff! Oh gods…The vampire was still laying on top of him, their legs were entwined and he couldn't move...and now Dettlaff was back to normal and naked! Where was Geralt and—

He shifted his eyes to the other end of the nest-bed-thing and cursed. They’d gone already! Why didn’t they---Dettlaff shifted against him and Lambert had to bite his lip. He willed his witcher mutations to the forefront to steady and slow his clambering heart. But it was too late. Lamberts breath halted as the head of raven hair lifted and he was looking into ice blue eyes.

The cool eyes regarded him evenly and did not betray any emotion, but Lambert felt like they read straight through him.

“Good morning, Witcher,” the vampire purred.

“Vampire,” Lambert barely bit out. His voice was gravely and strained from yelling so much the previous night. “What all do you remember?” Lambert asked and his eyes narrowed warily. Please let him forget, please let him forg—

“Everything,” Dettlaff closed his eyes and wrapped his feet over the backs of Lamberts legs, pinning them. He tensed but all the vampire did after that was take a deep breath. Scenting him…? “You smell, _amazing._”

Gods she’s going to pay for this! “Everything?” He asked, his heart beginning to beat frantically.

“Oh yes.” Dettlaff shifted to his elbows and framed Lambert with his arms to peer down at him. The thumb of one clawed hand trailed across his cheek towards his lips. His eyes fluttered closed, he couldn't help it! “The card especially, I find that bit quite _fascinating_. As someone who detests social gatherings and the glaring stares of people, I can relate. But what did Geralt say…”

Fuck Geralt!

“…you were ’enamored’ was it? Why?” Dettlaff bent back into his neck and inhaled. Apparently whatever Keira had thrown into his bath oil _lingered _and clearly the vampire’s sense of smell was as keen in this form as in his other.

“Geralt is full of shit! He doesn’t know what he’s—Ah!” Lambert's eyes shot open and he yelped as teeth nipped at his skin. He arched away and struggled, but his arms were still pinned to his sides.

“I can tell when you’re lying. I can feel your heart. Your scent changes.”

Shit.

Lambert’s heart rate picked up realizing the vampire could scent him just like he could scent when his Wolf brothers were ‘keyed up.’ He had to get out of there, now! “Get off me!” He deflected and attempted to knock the vampire off him by shifting his hips and kicking out his legs, but to no avail. His legs were solidly pinned. Also seemed like struggling just made the vampire even more---

“You….smell, so good…” Dettlaff repeated, obsessed with his scent. The vampire brushed his nose up against Lamberts ear and he could feel the warmth of his breath and he shuddered. Fuck Keira and Geralt! They were going to pay for this! He totally felt like he was about to become breakfast!

“Wait, I thought you wanted to be--like Regis?” Lambert almost stuttered the question and bit his lip hard as the vampire licked and nibbled on his ear. Lambert flinched away. “Doesn’t he abstain?!”

Dettlaff chuckled and leaned back to leer at him. “I thought you witcher’s were smart? Even a blind man could see what Geralt’s done to the old vampire. Apparently he’s had a change of heart. And as they say…” The vampire ground slowly against him, his nakedness clashing against Lambert's thin trousers. “…everything is okay in moderation…” He bit the inside of his cheek as the vampire gently scraped a claw from his ear down to the crook of his neck, “…especially if they’re willing.”

“Nope! Not willing!” He ground out through clenched teeth despite his body saying otherwise. So much for the damn mutations blocking it!

The vampires blue eyes glowed. “Are you so sure? You are saying one thing, but as I can see your body is communicating something else _entirely_.”

“Fuck off Dettlaff! This isn’t right!”

The vampire chuckled and sat back, straddling him and allowing Lambert to view him in full.

Lambert swallowed and closed his eyes again. He willed himself not to react but fuck all if his body would listen to him.

“You want me.”

NO! Maybe…yes. Fuck all okay yes but not like this! This was…this was just too…Gods it was too much.

“Look at me.”

Nope! Not going to happen! It’s not like this was a sight unfamiliar to him, but this was Dettlaff! A _higher vampire. _The _Beast of Beauclair_! This wasn’t one of his…one of his wolf school buddies he grew up with! Sure…he might have this _thing _for beings who could overpower him and fucking Keira knew about it. She knew of his interest in higher vampires in particular. The bitch! But imagining and doing were totally different things!

“Look at me, Witcher.” That wonderfully smoky scent of burning parchment returned and Lambert steeled himself. This wasn’t going to happen!

Determined, Lambert gathered his mutations about him, coiled his muscles and opened his eyes. They were glowing just as Dettlaffs were glowing. He let out a growl as he uncoiled his muscles and kicked his leg out with all his strength. Then shifted his hips up at the same time in an attempt to throw the vampire off balance and dislodge him.

The vampire fucking bounced. _All_ of him. Fuck.

“What the hell do you weigh asshole?!” he growled, red in the face.

“I could weigh nothing if I willed it. That’s entirely up to you.”

Lambert narrowed his eyes. If the vampire wanted to be like that, fine! He could fight dirty too! He recalled what he learned about vampire physiology and the one true weakness they had and focused. He’d play along, for just a moment, just enough to throw him off guard, then he'd strike!

“Up to me huh?” Lambert rasped slightly, his voice strained. He rolled his hips slightly, not at all moving the vampire, but he could sure as hell see that the vampire felt it. Dettlaff’s eyes closed momentarily before focusing back on Lambert who licked his lips suggestively and did it a second time. This time, Dettlaff moved slightly higher.

Immediately, he released the tension he’d been holding back. He sat up with a rude “Fuck you Dettlaff!” and swung his hand at the crook of the vampire’s neck as hard as he could.

Dettlaff cried out in pain and clutched at his neck where Lambert struck him and swayed. That was all the encouragement Lambert needed.

“Now get OFF ME!” Lambert shoved at the vampire with all the force he could put behind him with so little momentum. He still couldn’t move his legs but if he could just get him to _move to the side_…

Despite the debilitating pain Dettlaff let out a deep growl and shot back.

“Oh fu—“ He cried out as a clawed hand yanked at the back of his head and pulled it back, while the other hand wrapped around to his back, pinning him close. Lambert wedged his hands between them but he froze and his eyes widened.

Dettlaff was battling with himself and his eyes were flashing between black and blue. Lambert cried out and flinched forward as claws lengthened and cut into his back. He shook as fire ripped through him and squeezed his eyes shut to prevent the tears. His triggered mutations turned the pain into something else much more tolerable but still, totally inappropriate. Fucking coping mechanisms!

He felt Dettlaff press their foreheads together, but still he didn’t open his eyes. He tried. He really did what he could. Aside from being able to reach for his silver he was well and truly fucked. Where was Geralt?! And Keira?! Gods Keira why…

The vampire inhaled again, deeply this time, and Lambert noticed he didn’t exhale until the claws piercing his skin began to shrink.

“You will not. Do that. Again.” The vampire sounded incredibly pained, but under control at least. Lambert almost felt bad. Almost. If not for his throbbing back.

“Why are you doing this?!” Lambert opened his eyes and looked at Dettlaff whose eyes had been closed as well. Their foreheads were still forced together. The vampire inhaled his scent again and Lambert felt his resolve, his will to fight fading. If that trick hadn’t worked, a trick designed to help him _flee_ like a _coward_, what ever could he fucking do that would?

“Why not?” Blue eyes fluttered open to gaze at him. “What is it if not a pleasant release? You would enjoy it. I can sense it.”

“I hate you and your sense of smell, you know that?!” Lambert growled. “That isn’t the way to go about this---you can’t just…because you _smell_ someone all hot for you and shit! That’s not how it works Dettlaff!” His face flushed slightly and he looked away.

“So you _do_ want me.” Lambert flicked his eyes back at him and closed his own in shame. The prick looked smug.

“I didn’t’ say that damn it.”

He felt a cheek rubbing against his own—probably scent marking him again or something. The scent of smoke and parchment permeated through him again and he breathed deep. Something about it just bore into him. Made him feel _right._ But he didn't want to feel right now...he wanted--

As if sensing his inner conflict, he felt lips ghost across his cheek and he shivered.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I wouldn’t hurt you."

Lambert partially opened his eyes. “I’m not afraid of you and if you haven’t noticed asshole, I’m bleeding!” He growled back at the vampire, his back throbbed and burned like it was fire but damned if he'd admit that he hurt! If only he could get to his potions.._._ “Besides, I have someone for a ‘pleasant release.’ I don’t need you.”

Dettlaff’s warm tongue flicked into his ear and he flinched away. “While that may be true, why would that someone tempt me with you?”

“You—you’re implying Keira set this up?!” She…she wanted this? He hissed as a hand trailed up his back, brushing against his wounds to grip his neck. The hand massaged the tension there while the warm breath in his ear made him shudder. Lambert could steadily feel his resolve wavering.

“Fucking bitch…”

“Give in,” Dettlaff purred at him as he nuzzled Lambert’s neck and the fangs grazed the soft skin there.

Lambert groaned and bit his lip so hard it cracked and bled.

“I…I can’t…” Lamberts eyes began to glaze over as he willed himself away from what his body was feeling.

“Why not?”

“It’s just…Gods—you wouldn’t understand…” Lambert’s breath hitched as the teeth scraped and pulled way.

“Fuck Dettlaff…” His eyes fluttered, barely open. He was torn by want and the need to not look so fucking weak.

He was the hard headed stubborn one, the first to spit fire, the last to agree to anything. Always contrary and crude, but he was skillful and strong and last to whine about aches and pains. To be man handled so easily like this. He felt so _powerless_…

But…if Geralt could do it, why couldn’t he? Geralt was far from weak …and if Keira set him up. If she was _okay_ with it…

“Give in.” Dettlaff said softly as he pressed their foreheads together and nuzzled his cheek. A warm tongue flicked out to catch the blood from his lip and Lambert lost it.

Lambert crushed their lips together and he groaned as Dettlaff forced his way inside. Lambert tasted his own blood but he didn’t care. He wanted that smoke from the parchment burning in the hearth. That’s what the vampire tasted like. Like a cold night on a lonely road with only the campfire to warm you. He wound his hand in Dettlaff's hair and drew him in deeper. He wanted that taste, and they fought a bloody battle, of fangs and tongue and teeth. Dettlaff groaned against him and sucked on his tongue, a fang puncturing it. The vampire drew from it, and Lambert shuddered in his grasp as he tasted something weird and bitter, then he began to float and his body hummed and all the pain mostly went away.

Hands wandered their way up and down his back. They grazed the wounds, and made him hiss and arch. Then to his front. A clawed finger grazed his nipple and he gasped as he saw stars. His whole body felt over sensitized.

At some point Dettlaff had laid him down, he wasn’t sure when. The vampire was on top of him, their groins pressed together fully, his trousers ripped to shreds. Lambert swooned and his eyes fluttered as the vampire abandoned his lips and moved down his neck. It gave him a moment to breathe, though he really couldn’t. His back screamed from laying on his wounds and the assholes claws had made several more as they rode down his body. Every rough little bite or scratch of a claw had his breath hitching and his body shuddering uncontrollably.

He wasn’t supposed to give in like this!

Lambert narrowed his eyes and growled. He hooked his feet behind Dettlaff’s and grabbed a hand of hair for leverage and spun them around. Dettlaff cried out in surprise and Lambert grinned triumphantly as he grabbed the vampire’s wrists and pinned them to his sides.

Dettlaff looked up at him with wide eyes and his raven hair splayed behind him. His lips were swollen and savaged, and there was a cut where Lambert had bit him that was just starting to heal. The vampire was panting, and it was abso-fucking-ly beautiful.

Lambert grinned down at the vampire and then groaned as Dettlaff rolled his hips. He knew the vampire was just toying with him. Proof of that was there was no fucking way he could pin a vampire’s wrists. The prick was humoring him.

“You’re a fucking asshole do you know that?! Why’d you have to go and rip my pants off!?”

“They were in the way,” the vampire said simply and rolled again.

Lambert’s eyes fluttered and he ground down in return. “You owe me a new pair.”

“Whatever you want Witcher.”

“Fuck you Vampire.”

“Not tonight.”

Lambert shuddered and leaned down. He let go of Dettlaff’s wrists and wound a hand into the vampire’s hair to pull his head back, the other he scaled down the vampire's body with enough pressure for his nails to leave bloody tracks too. Dettlaff hissed and arched and Lambert scowled as they healed.

“Not fucking fair,” Lambert growled as he grabbed the vampire’s hardness and teeth scraped the vampire’s neck. Stupid healing vampire powers!

Dettlaff arched into his touch and hissed. “It’s very ‘fucking’ fair. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Lambert let out a yelp of surprise as the vampire misted out from underneath him, then reappeared behind and shoved him to the soft furs below. “Fuck…!”

The breath went out of him as he was straddled from behind. He tried to push himself up but again Dettlaff shoved him down.

“Stay, Wolf.”

Lambert shuddered at the command. “What are you going to do?” He was nervous. He felt way too fucking vulnerable in this position. He couldn’t see what was happening! Only feel and by then it was too—

He bit his lip as Dettlaff hovered over him and nuzzled into his hair at the back of his neck. He could feel the vampire’s hardness pressing against him down low and he shook, afraid. It had been too long! He wasn’t going to just—

“Calm yourself Witcher. Let me work.” Dettlaff’s voice purred in his ear.

“Nn…” Lambert keened and bit his lip. He buried his face in his arms, terrified and embarrassed. He didn’t want it this way…

Dettlaff licked at his neck and Lambert shivered. Hands kneaded into his shoulders soothingly, and teeth grazed a gentled trail down from his neck to his shoulder towards his wounds. A warm tongue flicked out at one of the weeping puncture wounds, tasting it, and then began to draw from it. Lambert trembled as he felt the pain in that spot lessen and then disappear entirely.

He was being healed. Oh, that’s right…vampire saliva heals! And the…the bitter taste earlier must have been venom? No wonder he felt so good despite the wounds on his back…

Relief seeped through him though, and he relaxed gratefully. He let out a groan as Dettlaff moved to the next deep cut and arched up into him. The vampire was helping him. He wasn’t going to just…manhandle him entirely, the way that he’d originally thought he would.

Thank the Gods...

Lambert flinched away again as Dettlaff hit a particularly painful spot and keened.

“Shhhhh,” the vampire wrapped an arm underneath his stomach and drew him to his knees. He’d reached Lambert’s lower back and finished up healing him, but he didn’t stop there. Lambert bit his lip. He had a feeling this was coming…

“Dettlaff…” Lambert’s voice came out as a warning growl.

Teeth grazed his ass cheek harshly followed by Dettlaff’s quick warm tongue. Lambert gasped and flinched away, but he couldn’t move. Dettlaff was still holding him.

“Trust me Witcher. I am not going to hurt you.” Teeth and tongue worked the skin again and Lambert huffed.

“I have a fucking name you asshole.” Lambert bit out. He’s fucking used Dettlaff’s name quite a bit and the dick didn’t even use his once!

Lambert could almost feel the vampire grinning down as he felt the vampire head for his most vulnerable spot.

“Lambert. I am not going to hurt you. I swear it.”

“Ahh…” He moaned and bit his lip as something warm tickled his entrance and he lurched away but again the fucking vampire held him in place. Again, he felt it tickle, and finally it entered him and wormed its way inside him. His eyes fluttered shut and he moaned and pressed back into it, wanting it to fill him.

Of all the kinks in the world, this one freaked him out the most. He’d never do it, fuck all he’d sooner overdose in toxicity and die. He’s never had it done to him either until now and it—

“…feels…” he bit his tongue and pressed back into Dettlaff.

“Fuck…” He hissed as something entered in beside it, working him open. He worried about the claws but there was no pain. Maybe he used the ven—

“Nnnn shit!” He looked back over his shoulder, his face totally flushed and debauched as another finger entered him. He could see the crown of raven hair bobbing and felt the vampire spreading him wider. Lambert finally felt the white hot burn now, dulled only slightly by the venom.

Black and white spots suddenly peppered his vision and he moaned. He lurched forward then back, unable to make up his mind. His cock jumped as something hit the sweet spot again and he keened, pressing back even harder.

“Dett—laff, enough! C’mon!...” Lambert’s voice was haggard and needy. Fuck if he cared anymore he just wanted to—

The vampire chuckled and pulled away. Lambert looked back at him again and he could see the want in the vampires eyes, and the need, but there was a mischievousness there too that Lambert did not fucking like at all.

“Say it, Lambert.” Teeth grazed his ass cheek, biting down as the fingers continued to work him and occasionally hit the perfect spot.

“Fuck you, Dettlaff.” Lambert spat, his voice was heated though for entirely the wrong reasons.

“Another time, maybe.” The vampires promise made him shiver.

“Now say it Lambert.” Fangs grazed hard enough to draw blood and Dettlaff sucked. Blue eyes focused intensely on Lambert who just couldn’t look away.

“Nnnn—n—no.” Lambert bit his lip and cried out as the fingers found the spot and stabbed at it harshly.

“OKAY FUCK—f—fuck me! Fuck it all you fucking asshole just do it—just—“

Lambert had no time to register the sudden sting of emptiness. Dettlaff grabbed his arm and pulled him close onto his lap and he cried out as hardness was suddenly thrust up into him. The sudden spread and burn of being filled overwhelmed him and he shook and trembled. He reached back and found Dettlaff’s hair and yanked hard wanting to return the favor—to give back, something—any kind of the pain he was feeling—he wanted to pay him back.

Dettlaff groaned and wrapped an arm around him, holding Lambert close as the vampire set a harsh pace. Lambert cried out as he was too quickly broken in and arched his back, trying to get Dettlaff to hit that spot. His free hand grasped at Dettlaff’s hip to seek leverage while his other hand moved from the vampire’s hair to his throat. He squeezed, applying as much pressure as he was able while Dettlaff drove him mad.

“You forget, Wolf. I don’t need to breathe. But you do.” Dettlaff’s voice was gravely and dark.

Lambert’s eyes widened and he keened helplessly as a hand gripped his throat. A hand with longer than normal claws. It squeezed slightly and Lambert’s eyes fluttered. He let go of Dettlaff’s neck and pried at the hand to no avail. He almost couldn’t get enough breath but he just managed. Black spots began to dot his vision. He could only focus in front of him. On his breathing, and trying to match Dettlaff’s speed and ferocity. Through the spots and the pained lustful haze, he could have sworn to the God’s he saw Keira but…

His lips fell open as teeth grazed his neck.

“Are you willing…?” the vampire husked, his voice thick.

Fuck…yes.

His eyes fluttered shut as he swooned, light headed and on fire. All he could do was whine past the hand constricting his throat.

Lambert felt teeth pierce him and suddenly everything went taut and white. His body clenched and spasmed, and then he was floating. He could feel something pulsating, pleasantly amidst the white fire he felt burning within him. He felt himself becoming lighter too as something drew from him. Then the whiteness turned grey, and the fire inside him began to cool. Lambert felt himself tremble and he heard himself keen, but it was from far away. Then the weightlessness stopped with the drawing. Finally color came back to him and his eyes fluttered open. He felt boneless and exhausted, and his body trembled with periodic spasms, like he’d run the trials ten times over.

Lambert slumped against the body behind him, totally silent but for his ragged breath, his head lolled to the side to rest in the crook of the vampires neck. Inwardly he was glad for the support, and shuddered at the warmth from the tongue licking at his own neck.

Lambert blinked and licked his lips. “Holy shit…” his voice sounded broken and small.

Large clawed hands gently kneaded at his chest and the vampire nuzzled him.

“Pleasant release?...Really?...Gotta be the understatement of the century Dettlaff…”

Dettlaff chuckled behind him and Lambert winced noticing that the vampire still filled him, though not quite as fully.

“I need speak with Ms. Keira about you. You are entirely too delicious to be just a ‘pleasant release’.”

Oh gods.

“Ah…”

“You smell even better now too.” The vampire inhaled and drew Lambert’s pliant body fully to himself. Lambert hissed as he was suddenly empty again.

“I’m laced with fucking bat nip and now I smell like you too, what do you expect?”

Lambert's eyes fluttered shut as Dettlaff exhaled near his ear and turned his face up to him for a much more sensual kiss. The scent of campfire on the lonely road and parchment burning in a hearth tempted to overwhelm him again. Like hell damn it.

Lambert bit the vampire’s lip hard and broke away before he could get pulled into something else he’d regret. “I think you’re forgetting this was a one-time thing! You practically forced me into it you fucking asshole!”

“We’ll see about that,” a familiar voice said from nearby. Lambert froze and his skin burned red. “But I—“

He thought he was just fucking seeing things! She’d been there this whole fucking time!?

Dettlaff chuckled behind him and nipped playfully at Lambert’s ear.

“I fucking hate you both right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there's that! My 2nd forway into this type of writing. I hope Lambert stayed in character enough! I love open endings. Leaves options for later, yay!
> 
> Meanwhile Geralt is wondering wtf happened to his nest gdi

**Author's Note:**

> Whistling language inspired by https://www.hellocanaryislands.com/silbo-whistling-language-la-gomera/
> 
> Please let me know if you like this. It's full of fluff and cuteness galore!
> 
> Chapter 2 is very explicit. Click at your own risk.


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